


Calligraphy and Atonement

by politicalmamaduck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 18:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16225205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: Ben Solo spends his time in exile trying not to think of Rey and keeps failing.





	Calligraphy and Atonement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the-reylo-void (Anysia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anysia/gifts).



> Written for the-reylo-void, who won second place in my 1000 Tumblr follower milestone giveaway. Her prompt was “reformed criminal (in AU) or atoning exile (in canon) Kylo living in the country and hating it but then Rey being around and making it worthwhile somehow. Even as he whines about it.” I hope I was able to do it justice!

He was not looking forward to her visit, he insisted to himself. The only reason they put her on the list of approved visitors was they were still afraid of him, and even more afraid of his powers. She was meant to discourage his affinity for the Dark Side of the Force, to convince him to renounce that part of himself, he knew.

While he said nothing, he laughed at their weakness, their fear, their misunderstanding of the Force that allowed such a loophole. He could no more renounce the dark than she could. Theirs was a balance, equal parts light and dark, whether either of them wanted to admit it or not, though it took different forms within them both. 

The sun was shining on Aeneid and despite himself, the man formerly known as Kylo Ren, formerly known as Ben Solo, smiled. It felt like a fortuitous omen for her visit, even if he wasn’t looking forward to it. Or to her. So earnest, so desperately compassionate despite their disagreements.

Rey was an earthquake in his newly quiet life. He could no more afford to rock the ship of his life’s new trajectory than she could afford to waste water on Jakku. So he would not allow himself to care about her, no matter how hard she tried to extract him from behind the transparisteel walls he built for himself.

He sighed, and looked at his small garden. The vegetables were necessary to supplement the supplies she was bringing. The flowers, a moment of weakness. A slip in his determined effort not to be in love with the last Jedi, not to look forward to her visits each month.

If his jailers were to find out, surely they would send someone else in her place, or not send anyone at all.

 

* * *

 

They had chosen his planet of exile because it had no known galactic significance, and in the Outer Rim, it was still close enough to hyperspace lanes that someone could get there within a reasonable amount of time, should something happen.

That didn’t mean it was easy to find, or easy to fly there alone, but Rey didn’t mind. She visited every standard month or so, bringing supplies to last him until the next month. The New Republic leadership wanted her influence on the former Supreme Leader, even if they were afraid of her too. The last Jedi hadn’t been quite what they had expected; she would not, could not be the figurehead, the perfect symbol for which the Resistance was desperate after Crait.

The war dragged on. The war ended. The First Order collapsed.

None of this mattered to Rey.

She saved Kylo’s life, a fact conveniently omitted from official accounts of the last battle, which emphasized the last Jedi’s heroism and bravery as the Republic’s savior.

She said nothing more than she needed to about the arrangement allowing her, and only her for now, to visit the Supreme Leader in exile. The balance was far too precarious. She submitted her reports upon return, ensuring she told only what she needed to and nothing more, nothing less.

 

* * *

 

He was looking down at his feet when she arrived. Physically, he looked healthy enough; he certainly wasn’t thriving, eating meagre rations meant to last him the month along with whatever he could find of the local vegetation. Mentally, she knew the toll was much more difficult. His attempts to block her out of his mind, to close their bond, were stronger than ever. It was as if he angled a ship’s deflector shields around himself with the Force.

She would not allow him to wallow in misery. They had work to do.

“Let’s get your supplies inside,” she said. “Since it’s due to start getting colder here, I have some extra blankets and a winter coat for you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, helping her move the crates she already unloaded from the _Millennium Falcon_. When he paused at the entrance ramp, she stopped behind him and let him have the moment he needed.

“She’s flying well,” Rey ventured. “No trouble with the hyperdrive this time. Chewie and I worked hard on her before I came.”

“That’s good,” he murmured, not looking back at her as he ventured inside. She did not follow, instead deciding to go inside his small dwelling and unpack his supplies.

He joined her shortly, and asked “Will that be all then?” as he washed his hands.

“No,” she said, softly. She pulled one of the ancient Jedi texts from her pack. “You have to help me decipher and translate this text.”

He sighed, but made a pot of the special Gatalentan tea his mother had sent, and gestured for Rey to sit at his small wooden table. He had crafted it himself, with what tools he was allowed. The wood was rough, but warm in color. She smiled as she touched it and looked around at the life he was building for himself: a bed, just big enough for him, now piled with extra blankets in the corner; his calligraphy set nearby; flowers and vegetables planted outside. She knew he started planting the vegetables as soon as he could after arrival, but the flowers were a more recent addition.

He handed her a cup of tea, and sat down. Their knees brushed, and a charge went through her. She finally felt a rush of emotion from him and his presence in the Force once more. It had been so long since he had any physical contact, and it startled him out of his protective stance.

“Ben,” she murmured, taking his left hand from his tea cup. His other hand remained clenched by his side.

He steadfastly refused to look at her, looking to his right and down at the floor.

“Look at me, Ben,” Rey said, reaching up to turn his face towards hers. “Shutting me out will do you no good. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, his eyes closed but the tears within them audible in his voice. “And I don’t want them to stop you from coming.”

“They won’t,” she replied, taking his hand once more and squeezing it. “They’re afraid of us,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

He nodded, taking a deep breath. The tears were gone from his eyes. “Which text did you bring today?”

“The Aionomica.”  She opened it, and they began their work.

 

* * *

 

The day passed far too quickly; they paused from their painstaking attempts to decipher the ancient text only for Ben to keep getting them tea and food.

The sun was setting, and Rey knew she had to say goodbye to Ben for another month. She would miss that flash of Force presence, the warm feeling of their bond, until she could see him again.

“I have to go,” she said, looking up at him while they cleaned up from dinner.

He nodded. “I know,” he said, looking at the dishes.

“I’ll miss you.”

“You will?” he asked, suddenly turning to look at her, his eyes golden in the fading sunlight.

“Yes. You’d know the truth of it if you stopped closing yourself off from me.”

Wiping his hands off, he went over to his calligraphy set, picking up a flimsi. His broad strides crossed his small home in barely two steps, it seemed.

“This is for you,” he said softly, handing her the flimsi.

It featured her name, beautifully formed, along with quotations from the Jedi text on which they had worked the prior month, and a drawing of the flowers outside at the bottom.

While she gazed upon his beautiful gift, she felt him opening himself back up to her again, purposefully rather than his slip when they touched that afternoon. She saw him, planting the flowers outside and thinking of her, then forcing himself not to think of her as he cut down trees for his furniture. She knew he saw her, planning her return visit and working with Chewie on the _Falcon_.

She set the precious gift down, and pulled Ben down to her for a deep kiss. She could feel his surprise in the Force and the tension in his shoulders, but he then relaxed, putting his arms around her and pulling her up off her feet.

She smiled and kissed him gently on the cheek when they broke apart.

“I’ll be back next month,” she said, looking back at him. “I’ll treasure this in the meantime,” she added, holding up his calligraphy.

“I love you,” she added, the setting sun framing her in the doorway.

“I know,” he replied, smiling softly.

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you as always to my beta boo Desiree for helping me with a title and making my writing the best it can be, even on her honeymoon. And of course huge thanks to my dear friend Bri/the-reylo-void for entering my giveaway and requesting this in the first place! Please do let me know what you think and come talk to me on Tumblr as well.


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